Fate
by CMW2
Summary: We're destined to be together." "No, Michael. We are Doomed to be together." Read how Michael and Fiona realize this after a bit of necessary drama. Mike/Fi angst and lovemaking with a side of Sam. No, not like that! :D


**Author's Note: Okay, new pretty long oneshot and a new fandom. I'm ready. I started watching Burn Notice about mid season two and I absolutely adore it. I like the premise, the humor, and all the explosions. It's one of the few examples of intelligent TV left these days.**

**And since I'm me, I couldn't help but find a couple to ship on. I can't help it. Every show or movie I watch, I find a ship. Michael and Fiona drew me in. It's a whole "I love you but life's too dangerous and we're too different but I still love you and I can't stop ever" vibe. **

**That, and since the summer finale was totally FTW, my muse has been howling at me to write for them for ages. I finally have enough material and I hope you guys enjoy it.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

The tension could be cut with a butter knife or knowing them, a dagger and a block of C4.

Something had happened between them and Sam Axe was loathe to ask exactly what. It probably had to do with their little Circle of Life thing. Break Up, Hook Up, and then Forget It Ever Happened. Mambo 1, 2, 3. As far he knew though, they hadn't hooked up again since the whole "I thought you were burnt alive" fiasco. Of course, they could easily keep stuff from him. Both of them were spy assassin ninjas.

He was just a guy who knew a guy with a bottle of Corona not too far away. He couldn't compete with all their trained evasiveness. But something was certainly up. Neither one of them had said a peep to each other in 2 days. They weren't in each other's personal bubbles. They even avoided extended eye contact whenever possible, a huge red flag since it was them. They _**always**_ did the loaded stare thing.

. When Mike did bring himself look at her, it was with betrayal, the same kind betrayal that had been there when Fi had been screwing that…oh, jeez.

Fi had a boyfriend and Mike knew about it and he probably had said something stupid to piss her off. Actually, knowing Mike there was no "probably" about it. When he got mad, he said some fucked up stuff, stuff that always came back to bite him, especially with a pissed off Fi in the mix.

Pissed Off Fi + Jealous and Pissed Off Mike = **Run Like Hell, Sam!**

Downing the rest of his beer, he stood up and both of them looked at him quizzically as he grabbed his keys.

"Yeah, I'm going to get some air and some more beer. I'll be back in the morning." he said while heading the loft door.

"It's going to take you until the morning to get beer?" Fi asked skeptically.

"And air! Bye!" he called before slamming the door.

_**//////////////**_

Okay, Sam knew. Excellent. Soon, he'd be getting a call from his mother, demanding to know what he had done to hurt that nice Fiona….

Michael Westen sighed deeply and went back to his yogurt, defiantly ignoring the gaze that was burning into the back of his head. That gaze had been there for days, accusing and hurt all at once, but he didn't do anything to acknowledge it…well, not anything she could pick up on.

3 days before, he had gone to see about her at her place. One of her (in)famous explosions had gone off a little too early and she had gotten singed. He had just wanted to be sure that she wasn't permanently damaged. He had even gotten her some of her favorite ice cream, knowing it made her feel better than any wonder drug.

He had expected her to be curled up with her gun, cleaning it and polishing it for next time.

What he had gotten instead was her on top of some steroid popping paramedic asshole, certainly feeling no pain. They were in her living room, just as bold and brazen as could be. He had slammed the grocery bag down and stalked into the backyard, his rage and hurt obvious to anyone

. She had clambered off of the idiot immediately and had hastily thrown him out but the damage was done. Michael had felt like she had shot him in the gut…again.

Breaking up with Fiona had been the practical thing to do, the smart thing to do. He was still Burned and the last thing he needed was to have to deal with her.

She was too volatile.

She had a tendency to act before thinking.

She was a trigger happy, explosion addicted, Irish pain in his ass.

She was still the love of his life and he could not stand to think of her with someone else.

Campbell had been bad enough but at least he had never seen them at it like bunnies. So, him being him and a complete idiot when it came to her, he had said exactly what had been on his mind.

"_Michael, I..."_

"_Another paramedic? Are you practicing for the doctors or are you going to go for a janitor next? I hear they're good with their hands."_, he sneered hatefully.

Yeah, not very smart. She had yelled at him, hit him, called him a hypocritical, holier than thou jackass and had literally thrown him out the house, dissolving into tears as soon as the door slammed.

Since then, they had been at a silent war. He desperately wanted to apologize but the hurt was still too raw, too fresh. Besides, every time he looked at her, he could see her on top of the fucker, moaning and panting in the way he used to make her every single night.

Actually, no. She had been quieter and she hadn't looked anywhere near coming. If that had been him, she would've been screaming like a hellcat and would've been on her 3rd, 4th, or even 5th orgasm. The bastard obviously didn't know how to handle her.

It wasn't much comfort and it still didn't mean that he had the right to be an asshole to her.

As he thought about it, he couldn't really blame her for making an effort to move on. Just because he couldn't have a normal life didn't mean she couldn't. She deserved some peace, some stability, a family; all things that he should be able to give her but couldn't…

The ringing of her cell phone broke through his brooding and he knew it was her boyfriend. Dropping his empty yogurt container in the garbage can, he headed out onto the balcony, letting her chat in peace.

Even though he understood her decision, it didn't mean that he had to like it.

_**//////////////**_

Fiona Glenanne listened silently to Riley, knowing exactly where he was going with this call.

"_Don't get me wrong, Fiona. You're a hell of a woman but I just can't compete with him. I could see the way he looked at you, even under all that anger and he still loves you. And you still love him…"_

Numbly, she replied to him, telling him that she understood, that it was for the best, and she hoped he would have a good life. As soon as the line went dead, the phone went flying, hitting the far wall with a satisfying smash. This always happened! Every time, every _**fucking**_ time, she tried to move on, Michael would find some way to ruin it!

_**You know, it's not just **_**his**_** fault. **_**You're**_** the one that got attached first. **_**You're**_** the one who came here. If you wanted a normal life, you should've just stayed the hell away from Miami and let him stay Burned.**_

She hated it when her inner voice turned against her. She especially hated it when it was right. Both Campbell and Riley were right. Michael was her priority. Michael was her man. He had her heart and there was nothing anyone could do about it. It totally sucked.

Putting her head in her hands, she listened to his footsteps re-enter and go towards her phone. He picked it up and placed on the work table, beginning to fix it silently.

"It broke cleanly. I don't think you'll need a new one." he said quietly.

It was his "I'm sorry" tone and she looked at him, the betrayal in his eyes finally gone or at least hidden.

Good. That had been what made her cry, anyway. Cruel words she could handle from him but his wounded puppy eyes, she couldn't.

"Damn, I was hoping it would be a stand in.", she replied with bitter humor, to which he smirked.

_Apology accepted, you jerk._

"Trouble in paradise?"

"He broke up with me. Even did the whole "It's not me, it's you" thing."

"I thought it was the other way around." he remarked wryly.

"Not with me.", she sing-songed, making him chuckle.

A loose part of the phone pinged across the floor and she immediately got up to get it. It rolled under his bed and she sighed with irritation. Of all days to wear the blue dress… As soon as she bent over, the hem would ride up just enough to give him quite a show.

_Well, it's not like he hasn't seen it before…_

_**//////////////**_

His eyes drifted away from the phone and then widened as he took her in.

Now he remembered why he liked the blue dress on her. It made for easy access, as did the tiny thong she had on under it, also blue. The bra (if she were wearing one) would be blue as well.

Fiona had a thing about her underwear matching, a fact that he had used to his advantage in the past. If she couldn't find half of a set, then she wouldn't wear any at all…and he made sure she couldn't find half of a set at least twice a week.

_Ah, yes. Good times…_

The muffled thump of her head hitting the box spring broke him out of his reminiscing.

"_**Damn it!**_ Michael, get over here and help me!"

Getting up, he crawled under the bed with her, not seeing the part in the darkness.

"Fi, I can't see it."

No answer.

"Fi?"

"That's because I already found it.", she purred as she slid on top of him.

Oh, no. The only time she had that tone was when she was about to…

Her lips captured his and he couldn't get away. She had pinned him down with shocking stretch from someone so tiny. His mind kicked into overdrive as he tried to escape her hold. This was not a good idea! She was an asset! She could only be just an asset…

Michael moaned as her tongue brushed against the roof of his mouth and sighed as his body and heart betrayed him yet again, shutting his brain up easily.

_Damn it, Fi…_

_**//////////////**_

Once they started, they were unstoppable.

All reasons as to why this was a colossally bad idea fled her mind as he forcibly entered her, making her eyes damn near fall out of their sockets. Nobody could fill her like he did and damn, she had missed him!

When she made to get on top, he held her down with all his strength, making her meet his gaze in their special, intense way.

"We're not doing it that way." he said as casually if they were discussing the weather.

"Michael, I…_**ungh**_!"

He plunged into her deep and hard, kissing and biting at her neck, claiming her. Oh, now she got it. He didn't want her on him like she had been on Riley. Very well, then. She'd humor him for…ooh, that felt _**so**_ good.

One good thing about being on the bottom was that she had free access to his back. If she had to be branded, so did he. With a cruel smirk, she dug her nails in and dragged them down painfully, sensually slowly, sending ten perfect lines down to the dimples above his ass.

"Fiona!" he roared.

He liked that. She knew he would. As they tangled ever faster together, she kept clawing at him, delighting in his snarls and groans of pleasure. Her body responded well to the rough treatment and she begged him for more, harder, deeper, faster…oh, Michael…

A yell of fiery passion and triumph escaped her as she came blissfully hard, all the tension and need surging out of her with her creams. He bit down one more time, drawing blood and exploded inside her, flooding her with thick, throbbing heat.

When the last aftershock rocked them both, he had collapsed to the right of her, on his side of any bed they shared. She remained flat on her back, panting and staring up at the loft ceiling, watching the shadows elongate as time passed.

He'd be ready to go again soon but she had to talk to him first. This was not going to end up like last time. She still regretted pushing him away…

"Michael?"

"What, Fi?"

"For one thing, I'm sorry. Not for now but for earlier." she started, wanting to really apologize.

Seeing her with Riley must have been like the time she shot him in the gut.

"It's okay. I…I don't have a claim on you."

"Yes you do and that brings us to a problem. The same damned problem we've been having ever since this whole unholy mess got started." she insisted.

He turned onto his side and looked at her sadly.

"Fi, you know that…"

"It's dangerous. You're Burned. We're too different…yeah, well that train of thought isn't working and it's pointless anyway. I have my own pursuers, remember? That's how we met in the first place."

He mulled that over and she continued, "And we're not _**that**_ different. Okay, we've had different experiences and we have different personalities but at the end of the day, we're still very fucked up people. Don't laugh! I'm serious!"

"I know! That's what makes it funny!"

She walloped him with her shoe and he pinned her underneath him again, bringing her wrists over her head.

"So, we're going to do this?" he asked seriously.

She smiled sadly and nodded, kissing him deeply, lovingly.

When they broke for air, he snorted ruefully and said, "We're destined to be together."

"No, Michael." she corrected "We are _**doomed**_ to be together."

This time, both of them laughed before burying themselves under the blanket, finally giving in to fate.

_**//////////////**_

"No, Maddy, they wouldn't kill each other…yeah, I know this is them we're talking about but come on…"

A loud thud made him draw his gun and he could hear the sounds of a struggle inside.

Hanging up on Maddy, he took the stairs two at a time.

Sam sighed heavily and quickly opened the door, wondering who would be the victor after all that fighting.

Looking inside, he quickly slammed it, knowing they would be oblivious.

_**Ugh!**__ Well, at least they worked it out…_

A screen worthy sexy moan drifted out the door and he quickly descended the stairs, calling her back.

"Hey…don't worry, Maddy, they're fine."

"_**Ohh, Michael…."**_

The balcony doors were open, meaning that he was hearing them…oh, he needed a shot _**now.**_

As he got in the car, he could hear screams of not agony and he floored it away from the warehouse, shuddering with revulsion.

"Really fine." he groaned before hanging up again.

Make it a double.


End file.
